


The Lassie Affair

by mathelode (engmaresh)



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Partnership, Rescue, Treat, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/mathelode
Summary: It was unfair, thought Illya, that with Napoleon’s predilection for ending up in the drink,hewas the one currently stuck in the most stagnant and gloomy body of water available.





	The Lassie Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/gifts).



It was unfair, thought Illya, that with Napoleon’s predilection for ending up in the drink, _he_ was the one currently stuck in the most stagnant and gloomy body of water available.

He’d failed to scale the slippery walls and a desperate dive downwards had led nowhere. It was probably a combination of exhaustion, the cold and his Russian leaning towards superstition, but Illya did not feel alone. He’d heard the THRUSH agents leave after throwing him down the well. But it wasn’t so much the thought of dying that spooked him. Death was a constant spectre in his life, Death—

“Illya!” His partner’s face appeared over the well, beaming down at him like a perverse man-in-the-moon

—was rather much like Napoleon, he decided. Loud, pushy and always around.

“Hang on, partner, I’ve got a rope.”

Of course, between the two, he’d take the American any day. Illya cursed as the heavy rope landed on his head, but held onto it for dear life.

“Pull me up!” he yelled.

The rope jerked, and he slowly found himself rising above the surface. Water ran off him in rivulets, feeling like cold fingers raking down his sides. He remembered his babushka’s tales of the _rusalka_ and shivered.

“You took your time,” he said when he was finally out, gratefully trading his wet turtleneck for Napoleon’s sports coat.

“I didn’t have Lassie to lead me to you.”

“Lassie?”

“It’s a dog—never mind,” said Napoleon. He had to haul Illya bodily to his feet since his legs kept giving out from under him. Thankfully there was a car nearby.

He finally got the reference while he was wresting off his wet trousers in the back seat.

“I remember that movie. I think that makes you the dog.”

Napoleon threw a blanket at his head.


End file.
